Train to Nowhere
by WhiteRosesHaveBlackThorns
Summary: A silver-haired boy, a blue-eyed girl, and a train going nowhere...


She stepped warily onto the train.

It had never stopped there before. It always rode right past, acting as if her little town didn't even exist; like it was a ghost town. _Now_, here it was, coming to a full stop at the empty station.

She'd always thought that the train had tons of people on it; she always heard voices around here when she waited for what she thought was nothing. Now, climbing aboard, she saw the little passenger cabin was vacant apart from herself and one other.

Seated directly across from her was a teenaged boy, maybe as old as she, leaning over and reading a comic. His long strands of silver hair hung over his face, gleaming in the cabin's dim light. She could see a glimpse of his eyes- they were aqua, and also shone.

She twirled a strand of honey-blonde hair between her pale thin fingers. She felt as plain as ever, her hair the color of flax, her eyes just a dull blue. Not like his. She slumped back in her seat, feeling a bit dejected.

The train's doors squeaked to a shut. Suddenly, she looked up at saw that the boy was staring right at her. He was still bent over, the comic in the same position as it had been five minutes ago, but his head was arranged so that if he just stared forward, as he was doing, he'd be staring right into her eyes.

Minutes passed, and she started getting comfortable. It seemed like he didn't even blink. She squirmed in her seat, feeling a bit tortured. She was just fine being invisible if being noticed meant _this_.

Finally, he spoke. His voice was rich and deep, though not deep enough to be the baritone singer in an opera.

"Hello," he said simply, his face still showing no emotion, his eyes still on her. He shifted so that his hand was extended in front of her. She took it.

"Hi. If you don't mind me asking…Who are you?"

"My name is Riku," he answered.

"I'm Namine."

Suddenly, he smiled. It wasn't just a grin or a smirk; it was a genuine, open-mouthed, teeth-showing _smile_. It lit up his whole face; she felt her breath being taken away.

"That's a pretty name."

"So is yours," she stuttered. He laughed.

"That's a weird thing to say to a guy."

"I meant it." She still felt dazzled by him, bewildered, shocked beyond thinking. Beyond moving.

"So, where're you headed to?" he inquired. She shrugged.

"I really don't know," she admitted. He grinned. It wasn't a smile like before, but it still made her heart skip a beat or two.

"That makes two of us."

"If you have nowhere to go, then why are you on here?"

"I could say the same for you."

She realized she had been leaning forward and slumped back into her seat. She smirked ruefully.

"_Touché."_

"So, regardless of where this train is headed, where do you _want _to go?" he asked.

"I really don't know. Anywhere, I guess. How about we ask the conductor where the train is going?" she suggested. He shrugged, got up, and held the door leading to the other cabins open for her.

When they came across the conductor, a wrinkled old prune of a man, he asked,

"Sir, where does this train go?"

The conductor just shrugged, and continued scowling at his oil-stained boots.

"C'mon, you must know," she pried. Her curiosity was killing her.

After half a minute, the conductor answered in a low, cracked voice "Nowhere."

"Nowhere? How does a train go _nowhere_?" he asked. The conductor just shrugged, and limped off to another cabin. He sighed, and they went back to their cabin and sat where they previously had.

"I guess we're going nowhere, huh?" she said.

"Yep."

"D'you think we can get off?"

"Probably not."

She thought about her next question before asking it. It was strange to ask it to someone who she had just met, but she felt she could trust him. Like she knew him.

"Would you mind being stuck on a train forever, going nowhere, with me?"

He smiled another genuine smile.

"No. I wouldn't mind."

Suddenly, they found themselves back at the train platform, sitting on benches.

They had gotten out of Nowhere.


End file.
